Reflections on recovery in the modern workplace

First things first, a note on this newsletter:?

I’m following the muse. That’s actually very unlike me. As an aspiring novelist, I’m a “plotter” rather than a “pantser.” But in this medium, I’m realizing that it’s the opposite.

I originally started the newsletter to see how the newsletter mechanics on LinkedIn worked. But I’ve always loved writing, and since beginning this effort, I realized that I’d fallen out of the habit. I think there’s a common thread somewhere in all these posts, and I’m doing my best to follow it. But I wanted to add a note to all of you who are still following along—

I appreciate that you’re still reading, and in the spirit of the professional network that is LinkedIn, anything I produce here will be tied back to life lessons about work. For me, work-life balance is messy; it all mushes together. But somewhere in the mush are kernels of insight.

I’m committed to finding them, however messy the journey may be.

A short synopsis of my journey into recovery

I celebrated 16 years of continuous sobriety yesterday, October 15th. Hilariously, my mom wrote to me on Friday to say she’d love to host a special dinner at their house; it didn’t even occur to me that it was my sober birthday until midday Saturday.

At this point in my life, sobriety is such a natural part of who I am that I don’t think about it most of the time. I have zero impulse to drink or use drugs. I still get frustrated sometimes, sad, anxious, and confused (just like anyone), but I know in my heart that the solution to my problems isn’t using or drinking. I have outlets, and I know where to get support. Also, having a family of my own now—two sons and a wife I adore—I realize there’s no going back. I know how the experiment of drinking and/or using ends.

For me, it doesn’t end well. No additional evidence is required. There’s no chance I’m putting my family through that. I won’t put myself through it either, but having a family that needs me ups the stakes considerably.

So, staying sober feels easy these days. The early days, though—my oh my, were they rough.?

I got sober shortly after turning 21 during my sophomore year of college. That was a tough place to be at the onset of my recovery journey, but thanks to lots of AA meetings, tough love from salty old timers, and white-knuckling some profoundly difficult moments, I graduated in one piece.

Thinking back about how it all started—and I sometimes forget this part too—I had a major moment of trauma when I was 15. During my freshman year of high school, one of my friends ran the ball up the middle in a football game and got a head injury. He went into a coma, and two weeks later, he was taken off life support.

It’s easy to pass off my descent into alcoholism and addiction as solely a genetic predisposition.?

(Funny note on that: I told an academic once that I had a genetic predisposition, and he asked in front of a dinner table, “You’ve been tested for this gene?” Buddy, I did a lot of testing back in the day. The results were not good; whether I have a genetic predisposition or not doesn’t matter)

For me, it wasn’t just my genes. It was one of my best friends—more of a soul mate—dying way too young. I never got to say goodbye to him, and I tried to fill the hole in my heart with something that truly did make me feel better for a while.

Eventually, though, after many misadventures that I won’t discuss here, I realized that there was a bigger meaning to life and that I wanted to set out on a new journey to discover it.

I’m still on the journey, but I’m starting to become convinced that for me, it’s family. It all clicked into place the day my son Avery was born.

Oh. This is “the why.”

And here we are. I’m not going back.?

Being sober has also made me better at my job.

On being sober in the modern workforce

I didn’t start my initial career as a public school teacher until I already had three years of sobriety under my belt. But it was still incredibly hard. Decompressing after a hard day or a hard week often involves a happy hour. Some of the holiday parties I attended had open bars. People—naturally, because alcohol is such a central part of our society—ask if you’d like a drink when you walk in the door at an event.

I don’t blame anyone for this because it’s a tradition that’s been handed down for longer than any of us have been alive. It is what it is—but is there a different way forward now?

I think so. And it doesn’t require anyone to not drink if that’s something they enjoy. It does require a collective awareness that some people can’t drink. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that accommodations be made for people in recovery, just like they’d be made for any other affliction, disease, or personal challenge. There are also plenty of people who don’t drink for personal or religious reasons, who’ve never had a drink before. They should be accommodated as well.

Nothing formal, per se. Maybe that would be good, but outlining a formal accommodation plan isn’t the purpose of this post. I’m more interested in “interpersonal accommodations”—what we can all do to make the life of the person in recovery (or in need of recovery) a bit easier.

5 interpersonal accommodations you can make as a coworker, a leader, a friend, or a connection

#1: Banish shame to the nether sphere—and out of the workplace

Speaking from experience, people in the depths of alcoholism and addiction don’t feel too great about it. I still feel ashamed of the mistakes I made back then. But the simple words “you are a good person” go a long way. Shame shackles us; honor and self-belief lift us. That goes for anyone, whether they’re in recovery or not.

Shame over a small mistake, shame over an imperfect conversation, shame over something fixable—none of it serves us, and for alcoholics and addicts (in recovery or considering the journey), shame is a massive obstacle.

#2: Support work-life balance

There’s a saying in AA that being “hungry, angry, lonely, or tired” is a recipe for relapse. Like many adages of AA, I think the wisdom applies to life in general.

Burning out doesn’t make any of us effective. As a company or employer, nourishing your people will result in better work and better culture.?

Good work is important. Individually, it gives us a sense of purpose. Collectively, it helps companies and organizations thrive. Better work happens when we’re given permission to care for ourselves.

#3: Enable healthy living

I’ve seen stipends for gym memberships, exercise, etc. That’s great for some people; I love working out. But working out is not the only way to take care of yourself. Creative thinking around this will be super effective, especially involving your employees in the brainstorming stage.

What else can people do to prioritize their health? I love seeing my therapist. Taking meds has also helped me enormously. Normalize these things; normalize addressing one’s mental health. And beyond that, think about stipends for life outside of work; consider enabling your people to travel, take a class, start a hobby, etc. I think these things are valuable for any person in the workforce. For alcoholics and addicts in recovery, speaking from personal experience, they’re vital. You have to replace what you did before with something better.

#4: Don’t automate relationships

Generative AI and various other technologies are streamlining the nature of modern work. But human connection is and will always be valuable. I love Slack; it’s a great tool for staying in sync. Asana is great for keeping track of tasks. But there’s something to be said for reserving time to connect outside of the project work we complete. Relationships shouldn’t be automated; in my opinion, they’re integral to producing good work in collaboration.

It’s also about “being seen.” In recovery, I’ve sometimes felt invisible. Whether or not someone knows about my story, a simple conversation takes that invisibility away and makes me feel included.

#5: Normalize recovery and abstinence

It doesn’t just go for people who used to drink or use substances and don’t now. Many people abstain for personal, existential, or religious reasons, people who’ve never even had a drink before. Responsible drinking is great for many people, but it’s a recipe for disaster for others.?

The more we can normalize that other path, the better off we’ll all be inside and outside the workplace.

Whenever I’ve been empowered to show up as myself—when my central identity has been normalized—I fulfill my potential. My potential for:

• Authenticity—being proud of who I am and who I’ve become
• Productivity—feeling like I have something to offer and following through
• Collaboration—realizing that I like working with others to produce cool things
• Vulnerability—understanding that it’s okay to be imperfect
• Loyalty—going all-in for a company and a cause because I realize I’m valued

The list goes on. If I felt like an outsider, I’d be ineffective.?

At Fresh Consulting, an amazing company that recognizes me for who I am, I don’t feel like an outsider. Many people know I’m in recovery and see it as a huge strength; that puts fuel in my tank, and I know for others struggling with alcoholism or addiction, the same would be true.

Recognize that a person in recovery could be one of your strongest employees

People in recovery have been to the abyss and back. You learn things on that journey. You become stronger. No one is perfect, but of the people I know who are sober (or are pursuing it), integrity is not something there’s a shortage of. Boost them up!

And if you’re struggling at all, either in being sober in the modern workforce or getting sober in the first place because you’ve realized it’s a journey you need to take, please reach out.

Onward.